The Scoop

  • In fourth grade someone got the bright idea of cutting lunch to an outrageous 15 minutes (as if going to a year-round school without a cafeteria wasn't enough--we ate at our desks and were served by mobile carts in the hall). To get the slow eaters (me) up to speed, our teachers implemented a charming little policy called "Shovel Time."

    The first nine minutes would pass normally. Then as the tenth approached, Miss Stauffer (a feathered-haired gal who drove a Camaro, loved Little River Band...and apparently still teaches at Hollydale Elementary) would yell, "Do you know what time it is?!" The class would manically shriek back, "SHOVEL TIME!!!" Talking was absolutely forbidden the final five minutes—it was a deathly silent scarf fest.

    I don't know if I've ever been the same since. But as a nod to this classy ritual, I've adopted the humble scooping implement as my rating system's icon. Shovel on!
    ----------------------------------
    1 Shovel=Passing Fancy
    2 Shovels=Puppy Love
    3 Shovels=Crippling Crush
    4 Shovels=Serious Stalking

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Long Overdue

Queries

Who knew there was a market for two California public library staff (the librarian in me must point out that one is by a librarian while the other is by a library assistant. This is a serious distinction to some, particularly in the public and academic spheres, because it’s the difference between a couple years of your life, tens of thousands of dollars and the resulting misunderstood master degree and underpaid, unappreciated job and just having an underpaid, unappreciated job) memoirs in four months? Or ever?

Quiet, Please: Dispatches From a Public Librarian
Free For All: Oddballs, Geeks, and Gangstas in the Public Library

I must now put together my proposal for an enlightening creative nonfiction masterpiece from the perspective of someone who was born in California but hasn’t resided on the west coast for a decade and worked in a public library for nearly three years in the mid-‘90s and never intends to work with the public ever again.

It will be titled Overdue? Fine: Tardy Tales From a Long-Suferring Librarian Who Doesn't Work in a Library and will be utterly gripping. You won’t be able to put that shit down.

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Comments

Hey - I'm a librarian, too. Knew there was something special about you.

There’s always been a small but viable market for library memoirs – think of that base of obscure-review-reading, ‘underappreciated professionals’ with access to priority-order forms.

Of course, the titles once shelved will never circulate, but there are meaner ways to sabotage your employer.

Laura: I hope you don't mean "special," though I'd probably agree.

SiSL: Ah, the truly self-published and promoted route. But do you assign your masterpiece a call number and properly shelve it?

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